an angel's gambit

the holy cacophony / their ceaseless symphony

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TAKE ME COLDER DOWN ROADS ALREADY KNOWN IF IT’S WHAT YOU CHOSE –– A ROCK FOUGHT FIGHT ON YOUR OWN...

WAIT FOR ME, DIG FOR ME

independent yoshiya ‘joshua’ kiryu of the world ends with you series. composed by cecil!

[synctuary]

starulus​:

    Were Neku more—or significantly less—sleep deprived than he presently is, Joshua’s materialization might have jolted him. As it stands, however, he’s in a bleary, post-second wind state of being phased by little else apart from a due date looming at the tail end of the week. The extent of his reaction would be no more than a slow, unimpressed blink, arms crossing atop an art history textbook long slaved over.

    “You know, I’ve got a door,” he volleys, lips quirked into a half-hearted scowl. Its edges have been dulled down by the march of time and burgeoning familiarity with this exact sort of scenario both. “And two windows. Lots of diverse options, if you ever feel like changing it up and knocking on something.”

It’s always such a delight – seeing that thinly veiled irritation shoot its daggers from tired eyes and a very exhausted Neku. Joshua does little to hide the way he grins to himself – even less when he chuckles quietly to himself. “ A very astute observation, dear partner, “ comes the easy sigh of his voice – a finger twirling into a loose strand of hair, “ but I don’t think you considered the very important fact thaaat... I kind of don’t care. “ A chuckle now, as fingers card through the hair in the end – Joshua’s hand settling on his hip.

Eyes trail in a slow crawl down to the open text book – lidding with idle interest as they take in the cup of coffee once more. Context whittles down the narratives, and Joshua’s eyes shine when they find Neku’s once more – ever-so elusive in intention.

     “ In any case, seeing as you’re not busy at all, I’ve a proposition to make – if you’re willing to hear it, “ a refusal in elaboration – the curl of Joshua’s grin something expectant. 

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entryfee​:

“Whatever it is you want to say, I don’t particularly want to hear it.” He didn’t question this obscure phenomenon, but, knowing himself in the way that he did, it was wise to steel oneself against themselves, knowing how dangerous they could be.​

     “ Well isn’t that just too bad. . . “ The faux cull of a sharp tongue – which has opted to change direction in how to deliver its strike. “ And here I was, hoping for a heart-to-heart. But I guess it goes to say people like us just don’t have any, right? “

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I'm falling I'm not myself I'm diving I'm underneath The hull of A mighty ship That steams away from here

[zillychu]

episode 6 was GOOD

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greetings-sheeple​:

Everything about the other sets Shiba on edge, but he isn’t really sure why. Perhaps it’s because he just isn’t in the mood to be laughed at right now (is he ever?). HIs eyes narrow at the stranger and his mouth dips into what can only be a scowl.

“And who might you be?” He’s going to ignore what feels like a jab. There is no happy ending here—not when so many of Shiba’s friends died for a cause they didn’t want and he didn’t understand. There is just an ending into another beginning. “I don’t recall meeting you before. Just tell me what you want with me and we’ll get it over with.”

Fiery begets the hiss of a defeated soul, to which Joshua does little to react towards, save the quieted chuckle smothered behind his hand. “ Well, aren’t we feeling amiable today... “ Joshua all but snickers out, intimidation hardly denting into his lax expression and lazy smile. He observes with momentary silence – canting his head slightly as he takes in Shiba’s defeated stature. His Soul is sporadic – wailing in his ribcage, and fluttering with a grief Joshua already knows. Interesting.

     “ Let’s just say... “ a pause – the gesture of an outstretched hand, “ I’m a friend. “ The corners of his eyes crinkle,  and Joshua digs his hand back into his pocket. “ And–– an observer all the same, which brings me to... here. The aftermath. “ The aversion of catastrophe and rebirth; Joshua inhales as he flips his hair back. “ Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? “ A glimmer of something divine – sun rays catching his eyes for a flicker of a moment. “ What did you hope to gain in Shibuya? I’m a little curious... considering the lengths you went to. “

[synctuary]

strawberry-barista​:

Hanekoma’s eyes drift up from where he’s buffing the surface of his counter when Joshua enters, but he doesn’t say a word to interrupt him as he gets settled in. There’s a smile on his lips the entire time, though, maybe part teasing, maybe mostly amused, and it splits just a bit as he mentions the internet.

And so he shoots back without even a moment of hesitation, “Well, it’s only natural, isn’t it? We gotta move with the times, after all. An’ I got some help with how to be most efficient, so I would say this was a good move on my part. Both for the city and for my personal brand. So what’s your damage, boss?”

It’s not his Composer, he notes, but he’s not going to say anything about it. Especially since he was fairly certain his wings were clipped now, he loved visitors. Still, this one holds that familiar cavalier demeanor that he’s come to know from so many iterations. He’ll humor his guest for as long as possible, if for no other reason than to keep him around. If Hanekoma wasn’t allowed to travel anymore, the least the could do was to become a trap for anyone else that might be wandering.

A glance to walls plastered with creativity, then a glance to the bar behind the counter – lined with different roasts and flavors. It’s a near perfect mirror of the cafe he knew, and it’s when the barista behind the counter bites back, that Joshua can’t help the way the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement; Sanae was still Sanae, it seemed – different world or not. A sigh, simply for the flair of the dramatic as he dismisses the jab altogether: “ I just hate missing out, is all. “ Another chuckle – a touch mirthful as he props an elbow up on the counter. “ So, thanks for the gossip. “ Joshua chuckles – slipping a hint he doesn’t need to make about his lack of belonging (Sanae knows, Joshua knows he knows; cat and mouse has just always been one of his favorite games to play): he was a Composer through and through, flitting through dimensions to satiate his own boredom. 

     “ Maybe that online gig is for the better, “ Joshua continues, “ because it looks like the times have also upped your supply demand. “ Violet roll to the espresso bar – a hum coo’d out after his observation. “ People just don’t enjoy the simplicity of pour overs anymore, do they? “ A testament to the constant fluctuation of Shibuya, and how the city embodied change; perhaps the Sanae of his world could learn a thing or two from this place (he was a little more rigid, but he’ll come to, he’s sure–). Joshua’s thumbing against his jaw in thought. “ Let’s see... “ He takes the moment for himself – eyes full of thought, yet betraying nothing beyond taking in the menu for what it was. Then, they gleam with null light – bright with nothing.

     “ Oooh, how’s the light roast? “ comes one question – certain to be strung with more and more simply for the sake of. Joshua’s eyes narrow with anticipation – grin curling with something synonymous to mischievous.

[synctuary]

@vibraea​

Joshua’s approach is a slow thing – a touch distracted by flashing lights and impassioned beats that would get anyone to tap their foot along to. The music is loud enough to border boisterous, but the liveliness of it salvages it before it can be too bothersome. “ Well, “ comes the coo of his voice after a drawn whistle, “ things sure are lively in here. “ Violet gleam with a particular shine – gaze crawling to the proprietor as his head cants to the side.

     “ Seems to me like you’ve got your work cut out for you, don’t you think? “

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@starulus​​ // neku

     “ You know, I never pegged you for the type to take his coffee black. “ A peering eye – the lack of regard for anything synonymous to privacy; Joshua appears as though he’s been there the whole while – a hand cupping his chin in thought as he stares at the dark liquid with a gleam of interest. A hum, before he leans back with a guileful grin.

     “ Then again, you always seem to surprise me, “ an idle wave of his hand to pass as a greeting, “ so maybe I shouldn’t act too shocked. “

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@stitchedmedley​ // neku

    “ You’ve always been the sentimental sort, haven’t you? “ The lack of footsteps does little to forewarn his presence in Udagawa, but Joshua appears as though he’d always been walking all the same (he loved a good surprise). “ Though, that... doesn’t really surprise me. It does bring back memories... “ Joshua’s smile is a slow wind of expression – his head canting as his teeth show. And then, the raise of his hand, followed by a singular wave. Nothing more, nothing less.

    “ Howdy. “

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@greetings-sheeple​​

A slow, resounding clap – the draw to his presence, while his palms smack together in a near cynical beat (the pauses in between nearly stretch for too long – a touch sarcastic while lacking in anything synonymous to true mockery). “ Braaavo, “ comes the drawl of Joshua’s voice – a laxed tone that never teeters to something above nor below. His hands lower, and his eyes shimmer with something unnamed – giggling to himself.

     “ I always love a happy ending... and judging by the skip in your step, I guess it’s safe to say I’m not the only one who does... “ a low chuckle – fingers carding through his bangs, “ ...Shiba Miyakaze. “

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@the-composer​​​​

Where one would reflect on themselves and their dictated path, Composers such as they have the exhilarating privilege of having a grasp on the literal term – mirrors of omnipotence that have chosen to tune themselves down. As to why... well, Joshua could only give voice to his own reasons; mirrors couldn’t always exact, in the end. “ Hhn... “ comes the coo of a half-formed chuckle – his chin dipping as he regards the other with quiet interest.

     “ Well –– I'd know that look anywhere... “ Joshua hums as his eyes lid; listless violet aching for a glimmer: the look of boredom. “ Let me guess: things are too lax in your world...? “

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@musicalities​​​

     “ I’d imagine, “ a roll of knuckles – rapping against the edge of his chin, “ that it’d take a lot more than congested transit to stop you from getting to your show on time. “ All the while, his appearance warrants the lack of context – as though manifested to simply satiate something null within him. Joshua chuckles to himself all the same – eyes glistening with a mischief he didn’t bother to veil as they narrow. His hand lowers – his posture upright.

     “ Since walking’s the option you’re going to have to take, “ that same hand extends outward to mimic an offering – made with his contradictory distance, “ then I’d be more than happy to accompany you. “

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i’m completely normal btw

[lifeinpoetry]

My body is a drowning city.

— Jennifer Elise Foerster, from “Lost Coast,” Bright Raft in the Afterweather (via lifeinpoetry)

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@groovepawn​​​

The edges of ashen locks are pinched between the ridge of his thumb and index finger – pressing down on them without any real sort of meaning to the action as Joshua’s eyes lull off to the side. He’s humored, perhaps, by Shiki Misaki’s natural ability to lure others out of their shells. Moreso, too, that she seemed to be under the impression that Joshua was hiding in his. Then his eyes trail back – hair still trapped between the pads of his fingers.

     “ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, “ Joshua hums – a touch amused, “ but your idea of a compensation fee is an afternoon date? Eating crepes? “ His smile curls some. “ I’ll commend your taste in dishes, but I will admit I expected something a little more... sinister. “

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@ruinrisen​​

Shibuya’s music glistens within him – a composition reverberating throughout both his tangible form and the city itself. It’s a symphony that was in constant motion – swaying within the embrace of welcome change. Joshua watches the effects bleed into those around him, a slight raise of his hand mirroring the crescendo of midday. His feet fall in line beside the reaper atop of 104 – the wind bristling past them both. It flutters through the fabric of his shirt, and Joshua is lowering his hand.

     “ It should go without saying, “ he says with a hum, “ that he made this possible. “ A slight turn of his head – a quiet, contemplative acknowledgement. “ But of course, you already knew that. “